


A Drink with the Devil

by webcricket



Series: 24 Days of Christmas Advent Drabbles [9]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Prompt Situation - The devil and a fallen angel walk into a bar… I make no apologies for Lucifer, the egocentric little shit who took over this drabble.





	A Drink with the Devil

Surreptitiously babysitting the devil, you sit kitty corner to Satan at the oak-topped Christmas light bedecked bar as he sings along to _O, Holy Night_. The classic tune crackles over the stereo speakers and it’s possibly the most surreal scene you’ve ever witnessed. His voice is cloyingly smooth considering it rolls off a serpent’s tongue. _Fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices_ …the chorus resounds and you think there’s an actual tear brimming in his eye. A wistful smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

You glance toward the hallway where Castiel disappeared a moment ago. You suspect he’s trying to phone Dean to apprise him of the situation. You sip the whiskey, neat, held between your fingers and smile at the bartender when she asks for the third time whether she can get you anything else, like say, perhaps, her number.

Lucifer isn’t supposed to know you’re here with Cas. After you dropped Cas off at the park where he planned to meet a group of angels to help in locating Jack, he texted you the address of this dive on the outskirts of town. He left out the devil in the details, of course, but you quickly caught on when you arrived. Cas didn’t have to verbalize his desire to have you stick to the shadows. He seemed to have a plan – seemed to have the situation under control.

But there’s one problem. Well, actually two – the fact that Lucifer has killed your angelic boyfriend twice and you’re more than a little pissed off about it. Especially this last time – when he stabbed him in the back in front of you, Sam, and Dean. You resent the months you spent broken-hearted believing your angel was gone forever.

You down the remaining amber liquor, slam the glass to the counter with a sharp clank, and slip from the stool. You’re not certain why Cas hasn’t killed him yet. Sometimes your blue-eyed seraph is too damn forgiving for his own health, but you’re not wasting a perfectly good opportunity to slay the beast before he kills someone else you love.

Lucifer pays no heed to you, continuing to idly hum the carol as he pretends not to notice you. He knows exactly who you are though, or rather, _what_ you are – he can smell his brother all over you and he knew it the second you walked into the bar. Castiel’s furtive glance your way only cemented his suspicions.

Reaching a hand beneath your coat to the small of your back, you slide out the angel blade tucked in your waistband. Sauntering behind him, you press the tip of the gleaming metal to his spine and hiss in his ear, “How does it feel?”

“Kinda tickles. Right below the belt buckle,” he murmurs, remaining motionless.

“You demented son of a bitch,” you spit, shoving the blade a little deeper.

“Are you flirting with me?” He smirks, casually plucking a toothpick from his coat pocket and inserting it between his teeth as he angles his neck to observe you. “Cause I feel like we have a real connection happening here.”

“Fuck you.” You conceal the blade under your coat as a young couple walks past.

“Is that a threat or a proposal?” He spins in his seat, resting his elbows against the bar top, and quirking an eyebrow.

You slap him hard across the cheek.

He flexes and rubs his stinging jaw, smugly noting, “I see why Castiel’s smitten with you. You really know how to gird a man’s loins.”

Your eyes narrow, rage flashing in your pupils. “You killed him! Twice!”

“Did I?” he muses, scratching his fingers through his hair and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. “And yet here he is – can’t even get staying dead right, can he? But you know what they say, third time’s the charm.” His gaze settles back on you and he winks.

“I’ll kill you!” You clench the angel blade in your fist, grabbing a handful of his shirt to yank him forward to rake the celestial weapon at his throat. You couldn’t care less about who sees it at this point.

“I’d like to see you try,” he states coolly, expression glowing dimly red.

“You don’t have the juice!”

Lucifer raises a hand, fingers snapping, fully intending to liquefy you on the sub-atomic level.

“You impotent bastard!” you snort in his face when nothing happens.

He sighs in defeat, turning to slouch over the counter and nurse his wounded pride – a pitiable shade of his former self.

You stow the blade and climb onto the empty stool beside him. The merciful thing would be to kill him. And you’re not keen to show the devil any mercy.

You hail the bartender for two more whiskeys and he begins to hum again to the drifting melody of the music.


End file.
